


Look to the Future

by Falcolmreynolds



Series: Shadows over Sornieth [8]
Category: Flight Rising
Genre: Eye Horror, Eye Trauma, Eyes, Gen, because that makes it seem like i'm writing a lot of edgy stuff, cedero mention, i promise it's not edgy, just wanna make REALLY sure you know what's up with this one, lmao i hate to keep tagging everything as graphic depictions of violence, some swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-30 23:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21436168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falcolmreynolds/pseuds/Falcolmreynolds
Series: Shadows over Sornieth [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1518518
Comments: 5
Kudos: 1





	Look to the Future

The moment Thanatos walked through the door of that quiet house in Yeheg, Bhyram knew what he had to do.

In the back of his mind, somewhere, he’d always known that he would have to make a sacrifice greater than any he could hope to mend, and he’d half expected it to happen on one of the adventures with all these wild dragons they’d met in Greenstone. But he hadn’t expected this.

Thanatos was limping, bleeding, tail and wings dragging on the ground. He was battered, and he couldn’t speak, his voice seemingly torn from his throat.

And his eyes…

His eyes were gone. The only thing left of them were two raw, burned pits in his face, crusted with lymph and blood, cauterized with flame. He felt his heart lurch.

Thanatos had children. He had a mate. He had a  _ future. _ And - and he had no eyes now.

Bhyram had gone far, out searching for the truth in the twisting streets of Yeheg, but concern for his friends had brought him back. He knew the group didn’t really know him that well still - he’d not gone with them on the first journey, and a few of them were almost strangers to him - but he knew their scents, and he could smell the uncertainty and fear rolling off Thanatos in waves. His normal scents, myrrh and candlewax, were almost completely drowned out. Likely the dragon was scared of whatever had hurt him, and reliving the experience internally.

Then he remembered Cedero, who was already here, waiting, drawn back by that spiral, the one that smelled of freshwater spray and cream and ebony wood. He’d bound his own eyes shut with that belt of his - if the patterns in behaviour (and the impulses he himself had felt) Bhyram had noted were indeed universal, that meant…

...that meant Thanatos had done this to himself.

Judging by his state, swaying and wordless, he wasn’t totally capable of understanding what he’d done. But he knew enough to be afraid. Bhyram could smell it, over the blood. He could smell it, and the powerful anxiety, like sour milk pervading his emotions. He was filled with fear, confusion, worry… and something else. Bhyram knew that smell, the same smell someone gave off just before they began to cry, one that reminded him of morning dew on springtime flowers. He felt… exposed. Vulnerable. The skydancer tried to smile at everyone, faintly, but he obviously couldn’t  _ see _ them, and the fact that he was covered in blood and grime and stumbling over his own feet wasn’t helping.

_ He is so broken. He needs them. _

Bhyram had… unique abilities. He could sense where dragons were without looking, sensing it in the air currents and the smells. He could hear their movements like a bat. He’d been designed perfectly to be able to fight under any circumstances, including pitch darkness.

He knew Ambrose couldn’t heal this. He already saw her looking Thanatos’ face over and shaking her head, worriedly. She caught his eye and shook her head no; she looked devastated.

_ I have to give him his eyes back. _

Bhryam could fix this. Of that, he was certain. He knew he could do it. He knew he could do it. He was the one here with the one ability that would be able to give Thanatos his eyes back.

To give Thanatos his eyes.

Bhyram could take the wounds of others upon himself, no matter how old. Or the sicknesses; he would be hurt in their stead, but they would be instantaneously healed. And there was no limit to how many times he could use his abilities, nor was there a limit to how severe the wounds he could take, aside from his own health. He couldn’t bring back the dead, but he could take a mortal wound. Once.

He could do this. He could operate in total darkness, in eternal darkness. He could live well like that. Thanatos could not. He’d seen the way Thanatos worked; he danced, he saw. He needed to be able to see in order to function. He used his eyes to peer past the veil and see the spirits of the dead. If he couldn’t do that, who would he be? If he could no longer perform his role?

No one.

Besides… he had children. He deserved to see them again. He deserved to see his friends. Bhyram had no family, no one to worry about. He didn’t need to see. He could work without this. He could work with this. He could do this.

Ambrose practically picked Thanatos up - she was much larger than him - and carried him over to a soft rug by the wall. He folded his wings in slowly when she set him down, and, feeling the plush carpet underneath him, he folded his legs and lay down. Hyann trundled over and laid a blanket overtop him as he swayed where he sat.

“Ambrose,” Bhyram said, when the healer was looking his direction, “can I have a word with you?”

Ambrose glanced over, nodding, and murmured something to Hyann. The bogsneak nodded as Ambrose trotted over to Bhyram.

“What is it?” she asked.

Bhyram took a few deep breaths. “You can’t heal that,” he said, “but I can.”

“I knew you would say something like that,” Ambrose replied, and he smelled a spike in dismay from her. Not disappointment; worry, dread. “I - Bhyram, there is  _ nothing _ left. At all. If you do this, you’ll never get it back! Do you understand?” She seemed almost angry, vehement. “Do you  _ understand _ what you want to do? This is serious. This isn’t like a simple little cut. This is something that will affect you  _ forever _ that neither I nor any other healer can hope to fix.”

“I know,” Bhyram said, feeling his heartbeat flutter in his chest. “I know. But I can - I can live in total darkness. I’ve been tested in situations like that before. I can do it. He needs to see. He’s got a family and a future. I -” He paused, stumbling over his own words, and lowered his voice again; he’d been getting a little bit loud. “I exist to help. I will help in any way I can. And nobody else can do anything about this.”

Ambrose looked at him, her own eyes filled with sadness. The deep streak of red in her left eye gleamed in the low light. “I will not stop you,” she said, “because I too wish for him to be healed. But I want you to make absolutely certain -”

“I am.” Bhyram took a shaky breath. “Just because I’m scared doesn’t - doesn’t mean I’m not willing.”

“That’s true. Do you have any sort of insight…?”

“He’s afraid,” Bhyram said. “He’s only now understanding what he did to himself, and he doesn’t like it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. I mean, I’m - I’m going to ask if he  _ wants _ healed, obviously -”

“Are you going to tell him how this will work?”

Bhyram paused.  _ How this will work. _ That made it seem so much more immediate, somehow, and it scared him. “No,” he said. “Because I want to do this, for him, and I don’t want him sacrificing himself for me. I’ll be fine.”  _ I can do this. I can help him. No one else can help him. But I can. _

(“You can help people who would be beyond help,” Kynaba said to him, a purr, “but only at cost to yourself. It’s to remind you, see? To remind you that nothing is without a price. And if you’re willing to pay that price, then you can assist. But sometimes, the price isn’t worth paying. You’ll have to decide for yourself if it is or isn’t.”

That had backfired. He’d given Bhyram an ability; Bhyram no longer  _ cared _ about the price he might have to pay for anything. He’d been intended to deny help to those in need when the situation called for it, but Kynaba had critically misjudged Bhyram’s willingness to give.)

“Okay.” Ambrose nodded. She paused, glanced down, and then up, into Bhyram’s eyes. “You are… brave. You’re aware of that, right? You’re brave. And selfless. Most dragons wouldn’t do this.”

“Because they can’t,” Bhyram said. “But because I can, I - I have to. If I have the ability, and I don’t use it to help other people, what does that make me?”

Ambrose said nothing.

Bhyram took a few breaths, then hurried over to Thanatos. He was sitting where he was, still swaying slightly. His eyeless gaze stared off at nothing. Ambrose had cleaned his face off with a few swipes of a wet towel, and it looked like most of the skin and tissue had cauterized so they weren’t draining fluid anymore, but there were still a few drips of clear liquid, almost like tears.

“Hey, uh… hey, Thanatos?” Bhyram started, swallowing. The skydancer swung his head in Bhyram’s direction, but it was clear he had only the vaguest idea of where he actually was. He said nothing - he couldn’t, at the moment - and Bhyram took a quick breath before continuing. 

Hyann looked to him. “Oh, hello, Bhyram!” She said, cheerfully, holding a comically small teapot dangling from one claw. She seemed a little bit strained still. “Would you like a cup? I’ll need to find some more cups I do believe…”

“No, it’s alright,” Bhyram said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Uh, Thanatos, so, uh, here's - here's the thing. I can - I can fix your. Um. That. Your eyes. I can solve that problem. If you want." He was tripping over his own words. His heartbeat was irregular; but he had to do this. For Thanatos’ life. “You - you don't have to - I know you're, uh, having some trouble with words right now, don't worry. Don't try to speak. Um, just, uh, just nod or shake your head, I guess?"

The skydancer frowned, lowering his brows, though the expression lacked something with no eyes. After a long moment, he nodded.

_ This is it, then. _ Bhyram glanced around the room; he wanted to look at things one last time. Silk, and satin, soft drapes and cushions, the faces of friends. That was an alright last thing to see.

(“Stop hesitating,” Kynaba snapped. “Once you make a decision, you act on it. To tarry is to waste time. Reevaluate if necessary, but don’t sit around and whine and wait if you already know which way the water must flow.”)

Lady Ambrose, behind him, moved, and spoke. “Bhyram, you don’t have to -”

“No.” He cut her off.  _ Make a decision. Act on it. _ “Stop it. I’m going to. He needs them.”

“...alright.” She went quiet. That would be her last attempt, he knew.

“Okay. Hold still, buddy.” Bhyram sat down in front of Thanatos and scooted up to him, then reached up with his front paws and put them on the sides of Thanatos’ face.

Immediately, he could feel the dragon’s wellness, overlaying his own body like a second skin. He could feel everything that was wrong - he could feel a ghost of it, and he knew he could fix any of it. But some of this would heal on its own. He couldn’t do all of it, or he’d be completely useless; it would compound with the wounds he already had and put him dangerously close to death. No, he could only do a little.

But what he could do…

He closed his own eyes.  _ This darkness I embrace, _ he thought.  _ I will see no more. _

Bhyram reached out, touched the mark of the injury on Thanatos’ body with his magic, and took it for himself.

(“To absolutely ensure that you know what you’re doing,” Kynaba said, nonchalantly, “you will feel exactly what they felt acquiring the injury. To make you think twice about some of them, to prevent you from taking something that would be too debilitating for you.”

Kynaba had underestimated the amount of pain Bhyram was willing to endure.)

He knew he would feel whatever Thanatos had done to remove his eyes. He was prepared for it.

But still, it took everything he had not to throw his head back and scream.

It was  _ bright _ , to begin with. Light flashed in his eyes, blue light, so bright he wanted to squeeze them shut - but no, he couldn’t, for the light was inside his eyes, filling them wholly, and it burned. It burned.  _ Fire. _

It felt like needles, or sword-slashes, dagger-tips puncturing his face, his eyelids.  _ Fire. Fire. _ He could feel his eyes tearing apart, burning, as if something had dug claws into them and was rooting around inside his head.

He clamped his teeth down on his tongue. He felt one tooth pierce through the muscle; it was nothing compared to the agony in his face. It did not help at all. He could only see blue, and then, he could only see black as the blue burned his vision to nothing, like dry paper. He felt damp liquid around his eye sockets. In the brief moments before his eyes had turned to ash, they’d wept.

He couldn’t feel them anymore. He couldn’t feel his eyes, or his eyelids. The pain was fading - had that really only been a few seconds? - but his head pounded as if he’d been put through Kynaba’s machines again. Like he’d been beaten with a chunk of ice.

_ I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. _

(“And if you are stupid enough to injure yourself beyond repair,” Kynaba growled, tracing his claws alongside one of the levers, “you will adapt. I have made absolutely certain of that. You’ll work around whatever happens. And when you get upgraded again, the upgrades will remain. You will continue to function, for as long as you are required.”)

Sucking in a breath, Bhyram lowered his face, pulling his paws away from Thanatos. He didn’t want the skydancer to see what had happened, really; there was no cause for that. Bhyram was almost certain he wouldn’t have let this happen had he known what Bhyram’s offer truly entailed.

“Ohhh,” said a voice, burbly and happy. A whiff of swamp water. Hyann? “What a nice trick, Bhyram!”

“Hey,” Bhyram said, remembering from earlier, “if anyone sees that dog, I’m, um, probably gonna need him.”

A voice - sharp, and the smell of blood. Ainissesthai speaking. Oh, boy, it was harder than he’d thought to identify someone just by their voice. Oh  _ boy. _ This was going to be difficult.

Ainissesthai was speaking, though it sounded just like a string of swear words. Bhyram tuned in, trying to make out what she was saying. It wasn’t friendly. “I hate that you did this,” she snapped. “I hate that you do this, I hate that you - that was _ his  _ choice, you stupid, fucking, martyr wannabe asshole!”

That stung. Bhyram swung his head in her direction. “Yeah, well,” he snapped back, “it’s my decision too.”

“Hmm,” Hyann said. “That’s less of a good trick.” She must have seen his face.

"I'll be fine," Bhyram said, hurriedly. "I'll be fine. I've got, um, I've got a really, uh... a really good sense of smell. And I can hear. Really well. It'll be fine."  _ I can adapt. I know I will. I’ll work with this. I’m designed to help, to function. _

There was a frantic scuffle of movement in front of him. Bhyram felt the air shifting; he looked back, letting the fluff of his face fall over his forehead and the place where his eyes had been. What was that, what was -

Air moving, and the smell of candles intensifying; Thanatos. Bhyram’s antennae twitched. He could sense Thanatos trying to conjure up magic, and he could smell his panic, like vinegar in the air. He was so weak. He was so weak, right now, and he was trying to use magic on  _ Bhyram. _ “Hey, no… No, no, that's not gonna... that's not gonna work. I can feel you doing that. I'm not - I'm not hurt, really.”

Rustling, and a soft thump, paired with a smell like rank olive oil. Hopelessness? Thanatos had fallen over, probably. Bhyram flicked his ears back, hunkering down into a little loaf-shape. He hadn’t expected people to be  _ mad _ at him for this. That was not a factor he had anticipated. It did not feel good.

He felt someone move close, and felt claws on the sides of his face. Myrrh and candle wax. He felt Thanatos poke at his magic, as if to try and reverse it.

“Stop it,” Bhyram said, and sighed. "Stop. It's - Thanatos, it's fine. It's fine.”

No response, obviously; the skydancer could not speak at the moment. “You need to see more than I do,” Bhyram tried. “I'll be fine without this. But you have friends you need to see. I'm not gonna let you never see your kids' faces again."

He felt Thanatos grip his face a little tighter, and to his surprise felt the skydancer press his face against Bhyram’s forehead. Was he crying? Oh, this was not at all what Bhyram had hoped would happen. He hated being the center of attention.

“Stop,” he said, to Thanatos. "Thanatos. Stop. I'm fine. I'll live. You have important things to do. You can go further than I can. You need that. I don't. I, uh, I don't - I don't know what else to tell you."  _ I’ll adapt. It’s what I’m designed to do. _

(“Uh, adapt how?” he asked.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kynaba said, with a sigh. “And I don’t want to find out, because I don’t want you damaging that form of yours. It took quite a bit of sculpting.”

“Will I - will I regenerate limbs?”

“Hah! Hardly.” Kynaba threw his head back when he laughed, massive antlers brushing the cavern floor. “No, that’s beyond your capabilities. Perhaps you’ll develop some type of magical sense to compensate? But no, if you give something up, that’s lost forever. You can be healed, but nothing more.” He snorted. “I want you to learn a lesson when you give something up. And I don’t trust you to learn by being told. I feel you will only learn by experience, so I will ensure that the lessons will be poignant and direct when you inevitably end up in a situation you could have avoided.”)

He could still feel the skydancer clawing desperately at his fur. "It's - Thanatos. It's okay,” he said, hoping to perhaps reason with the skydancer. “This is my choice. I'm making this decision, so that you can keep going and do things and help all of us. This is what I can do to help you. So - so let me do it." He paused. "Uh, I guess that's not really something you can stop at this point. I can't, um, can't reverse that."  _ And I want it that way. _

He felt Thanatos slide to the floor and claw at it. He was almost overwhelmed by the scents now; confusion, anger, pain (but not the physical kind), regret. He flattened his ears down as if he’d heard a loud noise, flicked his antennae back. “Oh boy,” he said, pressing his wings against his body. “Oh. Uh. Oh man. Please - please don’t, uh, be upset.”

Hyann spoke. “Oh dear,” she said, and he felt the air move as she shifted, towards Thanatos. “Thanatos... sometimes you’re given things you don’t want but it’s still his choice... you have to accept this gift, dear.” Well, at least  _ someone _ in here wasn’t angry at him. He moved his head, sensing for Ambrose - surely she wouldn’t reprimand him? He could hope - and pointed his head in what he thought was her direction, judging by the smell, and the magical signature. Was that easier to pick out than before? “Did I - I, uh, thought this was - going to help. I am - oh boy.” He didn’t  _ regret _ this, per se, but…

He had only a brief shift of air to warn him before Thanatos leaped at him. For a moment, he thought he was being attacked, but the skydancer just wrapped his forelegs and wings around him, clutching him tight.  _ Oh. _

“Oh, geez,” Bhyram said. This - well, this wasn’t - this was a little bit uncomfortable. He didn’t like this much attention. He could feel the skydancer shaking, though, and cautiously lowered his own head, touching his chin to Thanatos’ shoulder. He felt the skydancer dig his claws into his fur; that was fine. It was just fur. He didn’t even come close to touching Bhyram’s skin. Bhyram awkwardly patted him on the opposite shoulder, fumbling a bit. “Um, it’s - uh... there, there?” 

A soft fabric settled over both of them suddenly. Bhyram jumped, but it was only Hyann, throwing a blanket atop them.

Eventually Thanatos let go. Bhyram obviously couldn’t see what was going on, but he let Ambrose shepherd him to a corner, where he could recover. Ainissesthai left; he could feel the anger radiating from her like sunshine, along with a mix of scents he couldn’t decipher. She was complex, too much for him to unravel right now. She’d probably yell at him at some point. He didn’t look forward to that.

“I’ll adapt,” he told Ambrose, when she paused by him, clearly worried; he could smell it. “It’s - it’s what I’m designed to do. You know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Ambrose said, “but do you know how far that will reach?”

“No. I’m going to find out.”

(“Okay. I get it. I won’t do anything, um, like that. But this skill. This - so I can heal my teammates? The other guards?”

“Only if absolutely necessary.” Kynaba glared at him through a shock of pale hair. “Do  _ not _ compromise yourself for anyone or anything. I want you in top shape, always. You must hold yourself above your teammates.”

“But…” he paused, staring down at his new claws, his fur. “But if I’m - I don’t understand.”

Kynaba stalked forwards. “You’ve been given an opportunity to lead a division. I fully expect you to sacrifice the division if necessary to protect yourself from enemies. The healing is for those higher-rank than you. Do you understand?”

“...yes.”

“Good,” Kynaba purred. “Good. Should you do something stupid, and your condition changes, report here, and I will make any necessary changes, or at least record the happenings.”

“I will. I promise.”

“‘I promise,’” Kynaba repeated, and snorted. “Try to sound less like a second-month hatchling, Hiraeth.”

That was his name. Hiraeth. Before, when - before he’d found out -)

He shook himself out of the memory. The images in his mind were clear as day; it was a strange thing, to recall images, when he could see no more. It was curious.

Bhyram tied a strip of cloth around his face; it was one that the little cat brought to him, when she’d come to speak to him, curious about him. Having the cloth there felt alright. His head still ached, but the pain was only a faint shadow of what it had been. What Thanatos had felt, endured for his friends.  _ To endure that for him in turn is the least I could do. _

He had to. He had a responsibility to. And he wasn’t about to stop existing now because he was blind. He didn’t even have to stop fighting.  _ I’ll adapt. I will. I will work with this. _

Already, he was sensing magic more strongly than he had before. He could feel air currents on his antennae, scraping over his fur and wings. He could smell the difference between stone and water, between wooden wall and crystal floor. If he combined them, he could form a perception. He just had to puzzle out how.

This was not the end. He would adapt. He would learn. He would not let himself be hindered by something as silly as a lack of  _ eyesight. _

_ To assume so is ridiculous. It is underestimating myself. As Kynaba underestimated me. _

Thanatos wouldn’t have been able to adapt the same way, change smoothly and easily like a glacier flow. Bhyram could continue to be useful, to help; his primary function. He reached to his side - where he knew it was - and grasped his sword hilt in his claws. He could still feel it, he knew its weight and heft like his own horns. So if he had that, and he could form a picture of the world…

_ I don’t need to see, _ he thought, fiercely, as he stood and began to move along the wall, testing out the size of the room, and what he could detect in his mind. The echoes of the walls, the length of the floorboards, the softer sound of the drapes and curtains.  _ I don’t need eyesight. I can adapt. I’ll fight without it. I’ll win without it. _

_ Watch me. _


End file.
